


And On the Creature Scratches

by HigherMagic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal Lecter, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Will Graham, Dark Will Graham, Dubious Consent, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Will Graham, Scent Kink, Threats of Violence, Top Hannibal Lecter, True Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27528244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: Will Graham knows a lot about himself. He knows his darkness, his desires, the things that creep into the corners of his mind when his walls aren't up. Will has never been fated to mate with some kindly Alpha who rescues kittens from trees and makes a living being kind. This man is dangerous, Will knows he is dangerous, because the universe has deemed it so.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 93
Kudos: 1117
Collections: Hannigram, a/b/o Hannigram





	And On the Creature Scratches

**Author's Note:**

> We were talking about feral possessive Hannibal and Will begging for mercy and this happened. Title taken from 'That Unwanted Animal' by The Amazing Devil. Enjoy!

True Mates are a cause for celebration. Finding your perfect match, the one person with whom you can share the deepest and most intimate knowledge of yourself, to whom your very soul is bound, is as rare and wonderful as finding a seven-leaf clover.

When Will enters Jack Crawford's office and gets the first hint of that scent, it almost sends him to his knees. He stumbles and catches himself on the desk, blinking rapidly. He knows it's not Jack, he's been around Jack before and never felt this kind of reaction. Heat floods his body, followed by a powerful wave of arousal, a frantic tugging in his chest that compels him to sink to his knees, to bare his throat, to make any pretty noise he can to lure his mate close to him, to bear teeth in his neck and hands on his thighs, to fill the sudden emptiness that crashes through him like a charging bull.

He looks to the side, and sees, first, dark eyes. Eyes that are narrowed and reddening as they meet Will's. Sharp cheekbones, soft-looking lips just slightly angled into a polite, welcoming smile, that quickly falls when Will sucks in a breath.

"Will, are you alright?" He hears Jack's voice as though underwater. He is suddenly drowning, unable to take in air. Sweat breaks out down his back and makes his palms slip against the desk. _Yes_ , a long-buried part of him purrs, _sink lower, spread your legs, Alpha is here, he's finally here._

Will opens his mouth, and closes it when the Alpha straightens in his seat. There is nothing in this room but him. No wall of kidnapped girls, no scent of pine and trash and Jack's bitter coffee from lunch. Nothing but the distance between them and the sudden, frantic need to close it.

He tries to speak. Tries to control himself, but the True Mate bond is like a meteor fighting gravity. It hooks into him, spreads his ribs apart. His eyes burn with gold and the Alpha's gaze is sharp, his shoulders tensing slowly, slowly…

He's big. He's even bigger when he stands and it takes all of Will's strength not to sink to his knees.

"I have to go." He's not sure he even gets the words out. His bag drops to the floor and he doesn't try to catch it, or pick it back up. He can't show his neck, can't bend down, can't do anything, or this Alpha will lunge.

Will flees.

He should have known better. Alphas _love_ the chase.

There's a brief moment of hopeful stillness, where Will thinks that the Alpha can control himself and has remained, but then the door opens and he hears heavy steps behind him. Will runs as fast as he can, worming his way through the corridors of Quantico until he finds a bathroom. He slams his way through it and locks the door.

His hands are shaking and he can't catch his breath. Every inch of him is coated with sweat, and he stumbles to the sinks to try and douse himself with water. He cups his hand and takes palmfuls, spilling it down his ruined shirt. He ducks his head under, hoping the chill water will bring clarity and help him get control over himself.

It doesn't.

Will bares his teeth and eyes himself in the mirror. The shadows under his eyes look worse with the gold, overtaking his entire iris, his wet hair almost black and clinging to his face. He looks more like a heat-sick Omega than someone who has just found their True Mate. He looks like a fucking whore.

He bares his teeth at his own reflection. His knuckles go white on the edge of the sink. _Get a grip, Graham_. He closes his eyes and sucks in a breath, but what he smells isn't urinal cake and cleaner. It isn't even himself.

It's _Alpha_ , and it burns Will's nose.

There's the sound of footsteps, and a rumble outside the door. Will freezes and turns to look at the handle as it jerks and tries to twist. His fingers curl and he steps back, searching for a way out even though he knows there isn't one. There's just him and the empty stalls and the air vent that is far too small.

"Doctor Lecter." Jack's voice comes quiet and harsh. "Is everything alright?"

"Agent Crawford, please step back," a voice replies, that is low and rumbling, accented. Will's knees go weak and he grabs the sinks again to stop himself falling to them. God, that voice feels like wandering fingers over his skin. He can't stop the thought of that voice in his ear, that big man covering him, _mounting_ him, shoving him down to the floor so Will's knees and palms go bloody as he fucks Will to within an inch of his life.

That voice promises decadence and dominion and Will has never ached for something so badly.

"I believe Will is my True Mate," the voice continues. "It's very difficult to concentrate with you so close by. Please step back."

"True Mate?" Jack's voice sounds farther away and Will clenches his eyes shut, clenches his jaw, swallows back the whimper of distress. He wants to yell at Jack for help, but the Alpha, _Doctor Lecter_ , will hear it too and might become savage with the tangled lines of instinct and desire, and hear Will's distress call as something he needs to soothe, instead of something he is the cause of.

His brain races, connecting scraps of information from his youth with studies in his lectures with the instinctive superconscious they all share. Right now, he's lucid enough to fight and resist, but if he lets that Alpha touch him, it will send Will into heat. He will know nothing but the need for his Alpha, to be touched and claimed by someone who is so utterly compatible with him.

Will Graham knows a lot about himself. He knows his darkness, his desires, the things that creep into the corners of his mind when his walls aren't up. Will has never been fated to mate with some kindly Alpha who rescues kittens from trees and makes a living being kind. This man is dangerous, Will knows he is dangerous, because the universe has deemed it so.

The handle rattles again and Will bites down on the back of his hand so he doesn't make a sound. He scrambles back into a stall and slams it closed, locking that, too. His hand shakes as he fishes out his phone and calls Jack.

"Will," Jack says.

"Get him away from me," Will begs, voice hoarse. "Please, Jack, get him away."

"Will," Jack murmurs. He hears, both over the phone and through the door, another promising snarl. That is the sound of a predator, an animal. "Hannibal isn't going to hurt you. If you're True Mates, if you're worried about the publicity, I can cordon off the area and make sure you're not interrupted."

Will swallows harshly and bites down on his wrist to stifle a whimper. He's probably on speaker, and if his mate hears his sounds of distress he'll become feral with the need to soothe them. Even now, hearing how angry the Alpha – _Hannibal_ – is, it's all Will can do not to crawl on his belly and beg for forgiveness. He might even earn it, if he's sweet and submissive and wet enough. But there's no way an Alpha that is meant to belong to Will could ever be gentle, or loving, or kind. Will is a man who is made for monsters, and a monster is on the other side of the door, he's sure of it.

"Will." That voice again. Hannibal's voice. Jack gave him his phone. It worms right into Will's ear and he can't bite back his soft whine in time. "Will, darling, please. Open the door."

"No," Will whispers. "No, I can't."

"Why?"

"You're dangerous."

He expects Hannibal to protest. To say of course not, he is but a simple psychiatrist who came to help with a profile, he would never harm Will, he is a healer. Will expects him to promise that he isn't dangerous, that there is no monster in his mind.

Instead, he says, "Not to you."

The lack of denial gives Will pause. He opens his eyes and frowns down at his feet, still shaking so hard it's a wonder his phone doesn't clatter to the floor, slipping from his loose, damp grip. He's sweating, he can smell Hannibal so strongly, and oh _God_ , he's wet, too. His body is so warm and the fever is making him shiver, making him feel like he's freezing. He won't be able to get warm here, he doesn't have his nest or blankets or his dogs, all he has is the heat of a living, breathing Alpha on the other side of the door. A man with big hands and soft lips, a man who has promised that the beast he holds in his chest will not do Will harm.

"You have to let me leave," Will says. Hannibal is silent, but his disapproval radiates through the door. Will whines again, tears pricking at his eyes at the thought of making his Alpha angry. "Promise me, Hannibal. You have to let me go home."

"I'm sorry, Will," Hannibal replies. "I want to give you everything you desire, but I can't promise that."

 _Fuck_. And Will doesn't even want him to, isn't that the irony? He's so cold and the idea of crawling into his nest alone is repulsive. It's big enough for an Alpha, there's room for him there. He can't stay in this fucking bathroom forever.

"Please," he whispers, as another wave of heat rushes through him, making him stutter and clench around his own emptiness. He can't help himself, hearing Hannibal's voice, smelling him; he sits on the closed toilet lid and spreads his legs, whimpering as his fingers rub blunt and uncoordinated over his soaking wet clothes. He needs something inside him. Hannibal can give him that.

"I'll have some blankets sent," Jack promises over the phone. "And I'll get one of the janitors to unlock the door. Congratulations, Doctor Lecter."

"Jack, no!" Will says, but it's like his own vocal cords betray him because there's no volume to his words.

Hannibal's snarl silences him from trying again. The door creaks and Will imagines Hannibal leaning against it, bracing himself, big and broad and so powerful. "Don't say another Alpha's name while I'm here," he commands, snarling the words. Will shakes his head, tries to clear it, flattens his palm rough and raw over his hard cock as he keeps touching himself.

"I'm sorry," he replies, voice sweet and high. He can't help it. Hannibal's anger quiets to a rumble. Will's breath hitches at the sound of it, he's sweating so badly, rutting against the toilet seat and his own hand like an untrained animal.

"Will," Hannibal whispers. "Why are you afraid?"

Will clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, tipping his head back. He can afford to bare his throat, without witnesses. He sucks in a breath. "I can't mate," he says, clutching the phone like a lifeline as his grip slips. "I can't -. Anyone who would -. I'm fucked up, I'm -."

"You're perfect," Hannibal purrs. "I know you are."

"You're just saying that because you have to," Will snaps.

Hannibal's low laugh _undoes_ him. Will gasps and ruts his palm against his cock, fighting for breath. Fuck, he's so cold, he's so desperate and needy. He tries to bend forward and reach for the door handle, the stall is suddenly so closed off and he's getting claustrophobic. He fights it free and falls to his hands and knees on the bathroom floor.

"I'm saying it because we both know it's true," Hannibal murmurs. "You're beautiful, your body a siren song, the complexities of your mind a perfect lure." He pauses, and his voice goes even quieter. "If you know I am dangerous, Will, you must also know that you are, too."

Will moans quietly, shakes his head. Sweat drips from his hair and onto the floor, slicking the tile. He trembles and shudders, back arching. He needs to claw at his skin, at his clothes. He's freezing cold and the wet clothing isn't going to help.

"You're going to hurt me," he manages.

"No, my darling, I swear I won't."

"You're not capable of gentleness."

"There's only one way to find out."

Will hears footsteps approaching again, several this time. The line goes dead and Will quakes with both fear and anticipation, his eyes on the door. It unlocks, and several things happen at once:

A bunch of blankets are thrown in, along with some bottles of water and packages of food that can be eaten cold and ready. Will sees Jack take his phone back, and a janitor pocketing a bunch of keys. And then he sees nothing but Hannibal, standing in the doorway as the other two disappear. Will scrambles upright, breathing hard as Hannibal enters the bathroom, closes the door behind him, and locks it with a click of finality that echoes, ricochets, in Will's chest.

Hannibal's eyes are more red than brown, his hair damp with sweat and lying flat. He's shed that abhorrently beige suit jacket, Will doesn't know where it is, leaving him in a sweater and suit pants that cling to his muscled body. He meets Will's eyes and breathes him in, savoring the scent like a fine wine.

He takes a step forward and Will flinches into the wall, shaking his head. Hannibal's scent is so much more potent now, clogging his lungs, fogging up his head. He can't breathe and he's so wet, so _ready_ for his Alpha to come claim him. They say the older you are when you find your True Mate, the more powerful the effects, and Will definitely believes it. He can't lock his knees, he can't think about anything but how large and absolute Hannibal is in this room, quiet with only the sounds of their breathing.

Hannibal's eyes flash, his nostrils flare. He growls, showing Will his teeth, uneven and sharp and _deadly_. He would be a good Alpha, a good protector, but Will can only think about those teeth in his neck, biting down hard enough to rip out his throat.

Hannibal strides towards him, confident and focused, and Will shakes his head again. He whines as Hannibal pins him to the wall and puts a hand beside his head, hemming Will in. Their eyes meet, and there's such predatory intent in Hannibal's reddened gaze.

The scent of him is overwhelming. Slick drips down Will's thighs, soaking him to his knees. He tries not to breathe but he has to, and Hannibal's scent, whiskey and woodsmoke and raw meat, makes him tremble and swallow back another needy sound. Hannibal's hand slides down and Will flinches from it, trembling again. There's nowhere for him to run and his resolve is crumbling down to nothingness under Hannibal's gaze. The heat coming off him is so tempting, to touch and taste, to feel those teeth in his flesh, to spread himself open and let his Alpha use him until they're both spent.

"Please," he whispers. Hannibal's nostrils flare again, gaze raking greedy down Will's body. His free hand twitches, drawing Will's gaze. He can see Hannibal's cock trapped inside his clothes, just like Will's, their bodies aching for each other, desperate for friction, for shared heat, for _something_.

"Hannibal," he tries again, the Alpha's eyes snapping to his face suddenly enough it feels like a slap. "Please let me go."

Hannibal's upper lip twitches. "You're mine," he replies hoarsely. His eloquence is fading. He might be going into rut, even without touching Will. The red in his eyes is so bright, Will hasn't seen it outside of a feral Alpha. He made that happen. He can make it go away.

"If I say I am, will you let me leave?" Will asks, but he knows the answer. He's losing the will to run anyway, he's so desperate and wants to touch so badly. The fact that Hannibal, even in rut, even pinning Will against a wall, hasn't actually _touched_ him is telling. He wants Will to want it too. He's trying not to force it, but every Alpha has a breaking point. Will has seen it too many times, and Hannibal is _dangerous_ , he knows that in his bones. He likes it. He likes the idea of having and holding something so monstrous, that only purrs for him.

Hannibal's lashes lower when Will wets his lips. He takes in a shuddering breath and tilts his head to one side, showing Will his throat. Will gasps, eyes widening, another thick wave of slick leaking from him at the show of vulnerability. The trust.

Hannibal gravitates closer. Meteors and gravity. No one is coming to stop him, no one is coming to help Will. There is nothing but them in this stupid fucking bathroom.

"Hannibal," Will breathes. The Alpha snarls in answer, fists clenched tight. There's barely an inch of space between them now, Will breathes him in and wants to fall into him. He wants to collide and crash and let Hannibal rip him to shreds.

"Will." It's little more than a snarl. It snakes up Will's spine and grabs him by the back of the throat. "Will," he says again, visibly fighting for control. "I won't harm you. You must know I can't." Will does know. True Mates share everything – bodies, homes, minds. There is nothing Hannibal could do to him that he wouldn't feel. It's an evolutionary failsafe, to drive each other rabid with pleasure. To feast and fuck and satisfy.

"You'll want to," Will replies. He wants to. He wants to hurt this Alpha, to claw into his chest and nest inside his ribs. To tear open his back and bite him deep enough their voices melt together. It would be so easy to lean in and touch, just to rest their foreheads, brush noses, anything at all. Fighting the pull is like holding back a tidal wave.

Hannibal doesn't deny his words.

Will sucks in a breath. He can't fight this, he knows he can't. There's nowhere to run and no desire to. He whines quietly, as Hannibal's exhale warms his face. "Just…fuck, just do it. I know you'll make it better." He won't be afraid, the moment they touch, because he'll _know_. The fear of the unknown, the potential, is what holds him back.

"Will," Hannibal breathes, and straightens to his full height. Will closes his eyes, lowers his shoulders. He puts his hands on Hannibal's chest, digs his nails into the sweater, and pulls him into a kiss.

The tension snaps and Hannibal snarls, wrapping his fingers in Will's hair while his other hand finds Will's hips, digging in hard enough to bruise. He bites Will's lower lip, savage and sharp, and Will whines, tenses up, opens his mouth for Hannibal to lick inside. The surge of heat and arousal threatens to overwhelm him and all he can do is cling to Hannibal and let the Alpha pin him to the wall hard enough the tile hurts his back.

"You're mine," Hannibal snarls when their lips part, Will gasping and baring his teeth as the tug in his hair gets rougher, forcing his head back. Hannibal mouths along his jaw, to his rushing pulse, spreading his scent as he brings their bodies together and grinds against Will with a bruising grip on his hip. "Did you think you could deny it, you beautiful thing? Did you think I would not chase you?"

Will doesn't know what he thought. He whines quietly, pleading with his Alpha to be merciful with him. "I'm sorry," he says, sliding his hands up to Hannibal's shoulders as Hannibal noses at his neck, sucking the first of many bruises to his throat. "I'm sorry, Alpha, I -."

"No." Hannibal straightens, and holds Will's throat with a warning grip. "My name. Nothing else."

"Hannibal," Will breathes, and Hannibal smiles at him. "I'm sorry, I was just…"

"Afraid," Hannibal finishes for him, the word a decadent purr. He pulls Will against him and holds Will upright, his hand leaving Will's throat and sliding down his back until he can shove his hand beneath Will's slacks and underwear and touch his slick hole. Will groans and buckles against him, panting against his shoulder. Hannibal snarls into his ear; "If you wanted my mercy, darling, you shouldn't have run."

Will tenses, and whines as Hannibal sinks two fingers inside him, immediately curling so that the pressure feels like a knot. Will cries out weakly as Hannibal forces Will to rut against his thigh, breathing hard and scrabbling for purchase he can't find.

"Please," he gasps. " _Please_ , Hannibal, please, I'll be good. I'm sorry I ran."

"I know you are, darling," Hannibal replies, and strokes Will's hair to one side so he can kiss Will's red neck. Will clenches his eyes tightly shut, all the sensations, the high of touching his True Mate, coming for him like a pack of dogs. He can feel himself bearing down, soaking Hannibal's fingers, tightening for him. His mind rebels against the absence of a knot but his body is too helpless to resist.

Hannibal brings him right to the edge, and then pulls his fingers out and pushes Will away with a hand on his throat. Will shudders, bucking against air, staring at Hannibal with wide eyes.

"Get on your knees," Hannibal commands. He lets Will go and Will sinks to his knees immediately, staring up at his mate. His demanding, greedy, vicious mate. Will's mouth waters and he doesn't break gazes as Hannibal unfastens his suit pants and pulls his cock out, thick and red and leaking. He fists Will's hair and pulls him in, his other hand holding his cock as he smears the leaking precum over Will's flushed cheek.

Will opens his mouth and Hannibal thrusts in, deep and rough, making Will choke. Hannibal snarls and pulls out again, smearing Will's saliva and more precum over his face. It's dirty and Will's entire body trembles, knowing his Alpha is marking him, coating Will with his scent. Will is going to stink by the time he gets out of here.

If he ever makes it out of here.

Hannibal drags him away from the wall by his hair and Will goes to his hands and knees on the tile. There are blankets nearby but neither of them make a move to collect them. There's no time, no inclination, for that.

"Bare yourself for me," Hannibal whispers from behind him. Will shivers, biting his lower lip, cheeks and chest burning with humiliation, but he obeys. He unbuttons his shirt with shaking hands and shrugs it off, baring his back to his Alpha.

Hannibal snarls, and approaches him, kneeling down. He touches the scar on Will's shoulder. "What is this?"

"Stabbed on the force," Will replies, and meets his eyes. The expression on Hannibal's face is surprising – concern and anger, jealousy that his Omega is marked, outrage at the sin of the man who put the mark there.

Hannibal's eyes flash. His fingers curl on Will's shoulder. "Are there any more?" he whispers.

Will shakes his head.

"Good," Hannibal purrs, and kisses Will fiercely. Will moans into it, clinging to Hannibal. Hannibal gathers him close and rolls Will onto his back. "I'll mount you this way, first. Lest the sight of that scar makes me do something…merciless."

The promising darkness in his eyes is a direct contrast to the gentle brush of his fingers down Will's cheek. Will whimpers, reaching for him as Hannibal slides into place between Will's legs. Will tears at his clothes, fighting to get them off until he's naked and shivering against the cold tile. Hannibal's eyes rake down him, mouth twisting into a savagely pleased smile.

"You are beautiful," he whispers, and puts a hand on Will's chest, keeping him pinned down. His eyes snap up. "Hands by your head." Will obeys. "Bare your throat." He does that, too, a little slower, heart still racing with fear and adrenaline.

Hannibal smiles, the pleased light in his eyes settling Will as he rakes his gaze down again, to Will's red, neglected cock, to the shine of slick on his thighs. "Beautiful boy," he whispers, and pulls his sweater over his head. Will bites his lower lip hard, forcing himself not to reach up and touch, not to sit up and help. He's exposed and vulnerable and dares not disobey. Hannibal's hand wraps around Will's cock, stroking with maddening slowness, and Will arches up with a moan, clenching his fists. "I can make you feel so good, Will, and I swear to, if you promise to obey me."

"Or you'll kill me?" Will challenges, which he definitely shouldn't do with Hannibal's hand on his cock and the Alpha clearly capable of hurting him.

He meets Hannibal's eyes when Hannibal laughs. "Oh, no, my darling," he purrs, and prowls over Will, cupping the back of his neck and kissing him. He lowers his body, rutting against Will. His clothes chafe and Will is so sensitive, his shoulders ache with the effort it takes not to lift his hands and touch. "I'll put you in a cage," Hannibal promises, kissing the words to Will's rushing pulse. "And a collar on your throat so everyone knows you're mine. I'll mount you every morning and night, never letting you finish, until you're distraught with the need to please me."

 _Dangerous_. Will moans and lifts his head for another kiss, clinging with his thighs to Hannibal's hips as his cock twitches and leaks against Hannibal's shirt and his own stomach.

Hannibal's inhale is ragged, at the fresh wave of slick. He laughs. His hands slide up Will's arms and lace their fingers together. "I'll sand down your fangs and clip your claws," Hannibal promises. "I'll make you crawl on the floor and present for me whenever I please." Will gasps, and squeezes Hannibal's fingers tightly. It's nature's cruelty that has given him such a dangerous mate. It's nature's blessing that Will likes it so much. The idea of challenging Hannibal flits to him like morning birdsong, because he knows Hannibal could do all of that, he absolutely could.

But he won't. Because Will is precious and his and this kind of monster doesn't want a mate so weak that it becomes prey.

"You promised you'd be gentle," he says, whispering the words to Hannibal's jaw. His pulse is rushing and Will's teeth feel too sharp.

Hannibal smiles. "I did, didn't I?"

They bite each other at the same time, two men with a quickdraw and instinct for survival. Will chokes on the mouthful of blood as Hannibal's fangs pierce his throat. Hannibal brings Will's hands down, giving silent permission to touch as he lets Will go and rubs the head of his cock behind Will's balls, teasing his entrance.

Will snarls, and tears his claws through Hannibal's shirt, exposing his back as it rips at the seams and Will can rake red lines across his shoulders. Hannibal growls and bites down harder, kneading the skin until it's sure to welt and scar. Will doesn't care. He relishes the thought.

Hannibal puts his hands on Will's thighs and folds him up, cockhead catching on his entrance and sinking inside with one brutal thrust. Will groans against Hannibal's shoulder, digging his nails in as Hannibal sinks into him. He doesn't give Will any time to adjust, the floor is hard and unyielding against his back, dips in the tiles sure to tear him up.

But he's _warm_. He's warm and finally full. Will moans weakly, kissing Hannibal's bloody neck until Hannibal meets his mouth and shares the taste of Will's blood with him. Will whimpers, already so close, and that glimpse of violence is enough to make him come, clamping around Hannibal's thick cock as the Alpha fucks him hard and rough, giving Will just a taste of that dangerous decadence Will knew he could provide.

"Hannibal," he whimpers, shuddering as the Alpha's body grinds against him, no air between them, rutting against Will's sensitive cock and the mess he left. Will is so wet that he stains Hannibal's clothes, slick leaking out of him and puddling beneath. He slides his hands into Hannibal's sweaty hair, overwhelmed with the need to hold him, to accept him, to let Alpha warm and protect and cover him, consume him, _devour_. "Hannibal, please, _fuck_."

Hannibal drags his cheek against Will's, smearing the mess he left before, and sinks a hand into Will's hair, pulling him into another desperate kiss. His other hand holds Will tightly, keeping his thigh up as Hannibal keeps going, thrusts brutal enough Will can feel them in his throat. He's so empty, it feels so _good_ with Hannibal inside him, he can no longer understand why he fought so hard.

This Alpha is dangerous, but he's _Will's_ Alpha, and Will owns him. The bite on Hannibal's neck, claw marks in his back, the way he will lock himself inside Will until Will decides to let him go, Will _owns_ him. Hannibal's kiss is turning helpless, lost to the mindless haze and pleasure of rut. Will tugs on his hair just to hear him snarl and tightens his oversensitive, slick muscles to feel Hannibal's rhythm stutter.

" _Will_ ," he gasps, breathing hard, rutting their foreheads together. There's blood smeared along his mouth and Will tilts his head to lick it clean. Hannibal's hands tighten. " _Will_."

"Are you going to knot me?" Will purrs, and Hannibal nods, baring those dangerous teeth. Will's teeth, Will's bite, his to control. He slides his hands over Hannibal's shoulders, down his back, feeling the heat radiating off him from the savage wounds Will dealt. "What are you waiting for?"

Hannibal snarls quietly, meeting his eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" Will asks again, softer this time. He pets Hannibal's cheek and kisses him chastely, smiling when Hannibal growls and tightens his grip. "You want me to beg? You want me to ask you to be gentle with me?" Hannibal's rhythm stutters again, his lashes going low over his dark eyes. Will's smile widens, smug and fanged. He kisses Hannibal again, makes his voice soft and high. "Do you want to hear how much it hurts?"

Hannibal gasps, swallows back a groan.

Will can taste it, when he kisses Hannibal's bitten throat. He whimpers, not entirely unprompted, as Hannibal gives him a particularly brutal thrust. His back tears against the tile, beading blood. "Hannibal, please," he whispers. "Please. I need you."

Hannibal groans again, rougher his time. A shudder runs down his back and he bows his head.

"I need you to knot me," Will continues. "I need it. I've been waiting for you, Alpha -." He gets a snarl of warning, and laughs shakily again. Hannibal spreads his knees, changing the angle just slightly, and Will moans loudly as Hannibal's thick cock brushes his prostate, making his toes curl and his spine arch. " _Fuck_ , yes." He claws at Hannibal's back, goading him onward. He tightens around Hannibal with every thrust, every strike of pleasure that feels like a stab wound. "Fuck, oh _God_ , please, _please_ , please…"

Desperation makes Will's voice rough. The painful drag of his back against the tile, the backdraft of fear as Hannibal kisses his racing pulse, the dig of his Alpha's claws in Will's thighs and the relentless stretch is making him feel blind, directionless, helplessly seeking. He clings to Hannibal tightly and moans into his ear.

"Please, Hannibal, knot me," he begs again, making Hannibal bare his teeth. Hannibal's rhythm slows, and he presses deep into Will, his knot swelling as he grinds mercilessly against Will's leaking cock. Will whimpers at the sudden stretch, and then cries out as Hannibal bites him, hard, on the other side of his throat, splitting skin and making Will writhe, grinding helplessly on Hannibal's knot.

His second orgasm hits him like a tidal wave, whining and clawing at Hannibal desperately as the Alpha fucks him full and starts coming, cooling the fires of his heat and flooding Will, _finally_ , with enough warmth that he stops shaking. They're both sweaty and soaked, breathless, dazed.

Hannibal pulls his teeth from Will's throat, purring roughly as he nuzzles Will's shoulder. His hands slide beneath Will, holding him tenderly. Will rubs his cheek against Hannibal's hair as he tries to catch his breath, still reeling from the rush of the True Mate bond, the fear, the surrender.

When Hannibal kisses him, Will answers him in kind, hands going gentle just as Hannibal does. Hannibal rises and reaches for a blanket, unfolding it with a flick of his wrist so it's flat enough to lay on. He pulls it over his back and then rolls them into it until Will is resting on Hannibal's chest, cocooned in the blanket and Hannibal's arms.

Hannibal pets through his hair, and Will purrs for him, sated to the bone, full in a way he's never been before. Like he hadn't realized he was starving until Hannibal offered him a feast. He exhales heavily, and winces when Hannibal's other hand soothes the painful tears on his back from the bathroom tile.

"Will," Hannibal murmurs, when their hearts have calmed. Will hums tiredly, eyelids drooping, exhausted. He can feel their breathing growing in sync, their heartbeats falling into step together. He lifts his head and meets Hannibal's gaze. "I think it would be…less stressful for both of us if you didn't run from me again."

Will huffs a laugh, and kisses Hannibal's chest. "I'm not an easy one to deal with, Doctor Lecter," he teases. Hannibal hums curiously, and Will pushes himself upright. The action makes him sink further on Hannibal's knot and he gasps, grinding for a few seconds, relishing the fullness. "Being your mate won't make me be nice to you."

Hannibal laughs, and cups Will's cheek. "You're not afraid anymore." It's not a question.

Will meets his eyes. "Why would I be?" he replies, and knows the truth of it, settled in his mind and etched into his bones like silver. "You're mine."

Hannibal's red eyes flash, and his lips curl into a proud, challenging smile that Will answers. Hannibal sits up and cradles Will to him, pressing tender kisses to his bruised, aching throat, up his jaw, claiming his mouth again.

"Yes," he says, a moment later, as Will touches their foreheads together and closes his eyes. "I am."


End file.
